


Twilight of Space

by zyzotaku



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Alien Biology, Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Everyone Is Gay, Exes, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Gohan is also a snarky little shit, Gohan sucks at relationships, Goku is a good father, M/M, Namekian Biology, Slice of Life, Vegeta is Stressed, Yikes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2019-12-06
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:54:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21696526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zyzotaku/pseuds/zyzotaku
Summary: Goku and Vegeta return to Earth post Frieza in love, and together they form a new family. Six years later their son, Gohan, experiences the struggles of being a teenage boy in high school.
Relationships: Android 18/Krillin (Dragon Ball), Bulma Briefs/Yamcha, Chi-Chi/Son Goku (Dragon Ball), Other Relationship Tags to Be Added, Piccolo/Son Gohan, Son Goku/Vegeta (Dragon Ball), Videl Satan/Son Gohan
Kudos: 24





	Twilight of Space

**Author's Note:**

> An AU where Gohan struggles a lot with his training, high school career and relationships.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gohan isn’t as stable as he’d seem.

Dashing down the halls of school wasn’t anything new to Gohan, it was more of an inconvenience every afternoon. Though sluggish from baseball practice he was motivated to make it to his Father’s art exhibition in an hour. But his coach’s drills for two hours straight was enough to drain him significantly. His body was practically begging for a quick nap in the locker room. That's what he gets for being the star player _._ Unfortunately, that resulted in him being thirty minutes late - again. 

It’s a miracle he even fell asleep in his dirty and smelly baseball gear, catcher’s mitt and all. A tentative sniff of his armpit led him to the conclusion that he stunk to high hell. If he made it home in the next ten minutes he could shower and be at the event by seven forty-five.

“Hey, Gohan! Wait up!” _Oh Shit. Videl._

* * *

Coming to a complete stop was hard but not absurd, it was more of a hindrance. Not once could he leave the building without her breathing down his neck. Unfortunately, she knew about his Saiyan biology, which gave her sufficient reason to be involved with him. 

Not that he didn't love her attention - on the contrary, Gohan adored being the apple of her eye. She approached him with a sultry essence, and unconsciously he shifted his weight onto his left and crossed his arms. Apparently, she couldn't read his body language well enough to be discouraged. Rather, the girl grabbed onto his arms and began shaking his body.

“Gohan! I don't understand how you can never answer me when I call you?” 

Because of their height difference, he could stare down her loose white shirt and at her lacy pink brasserie. She was either an A or B cup in size.

Duly noted. 

Gohan stepped away from her petite physique in hopes of gaining more distance between them. He doesn't need to be sporting one while on his way home to his parents. 

“Are you staring at my bra? ” Inquisitive blue eyes snap to his own dark ones. She reinvades his personal space and begins tracing the blue and white patterning of his jersey. 

“Possibly” Short and straight to the point. He was told that he sounded just like his father. The young demi-Saiyan takes another step back and glances at his watch. “What if I was? It's not like you'd have a problem, right?” 

Blue eyes rolling was nothing new, however, a visible pang of nervousness certainly was. 

She tried again “Fucking asshole. Just for that, I'm coming over to your place.” 

“What for?” He knows why she wants to come over, he's just being an asshole. She’s been begging him to spend some time with her, just the two of them. Honestly, he would let her: if his parents and the majority of his family weren't going to be at the after-party. 

Her eyes begin to droop and lips form a small pout. Stutters come out her puckered lips as she plays with her armbands and rubs her feet together. One more glance at his watch tells him it's **7:35 PM.**

_I've no time for this. I need to leave._

So he makes a decision. “Videl, you can come- ” The smaller martial artist bounces and flies around the empty hallway. “but you have to be less- hyper” 

“Oh my God, that's totally not a problem! I'll behave, I swear!” Her genuine happiness was enough to give him the strength to leave the building. 

* * *

Using his father’s Instant Transmission Technique was always an unusual feeling. It felt as if his molecules rearranged themselves to form a banana in his throat. Every time he’d I.T himself somewhere it was a bizarre and disturbing feeling. Once he’d thought there was a frog over his eyelid, another time was snails down his throat. There was even an instance where he felt as if his lungs were on the outside of his torso. Needless to say, he doesn't use it often - and Videl knows that. Despite his pleas, she demanded a quick pitstop outfit change. 

She quickly changed into a knee-length white dress with a cropped denim jacket. It's most likely to show her midriff but he won't question it. Her black hair was caught up in a messy updo bun that showed the few pimples on her forehead. Small ears and hands were adorned with pearly white jewels. She giggled nervously as he pushed the falling strands behind her ear. 

“You look absolutely stunning Vee. Why don't you wear cutesy stuff like this more?” He joked half-heartedly, as he smoothed out the wrinkles of her skirt. 

“If I did you'd be all over me.” Though her reply was meant to be taken as a joke, she was right. Her beauty was enthralling.

Though not the curviest of figures her lean core fit flawlessly under his palms as he slid them up her waist. Slowly their mouths gravitated towards one another’s, and their breaths mingled. Narrow eyelids fluttered with anticipation as if dust was caught in between the dark lashes. 

Her breath became more haphazard as he drew nearer, and slightly cracked lips quivered as a tanned thumb rubbed gently at her dark circles. Tracing the copious amounts of scars and wounds on her skin was just an oddly satisfying task he found himself doing of late. It's as if he was trying to remove the pain and distress from her life.

A comfortable silence falls over the room as their breathing synchronized until an incoherent mumble leaves her lips. He hums in response, so she tries again, but with more confidence.

“Finally going to make a move?” The passive-aggressiveness in her voice spoke volumes about her personality. 

In spite of her eyes being closed and face resting in his palms, it felt as if she's holding him in place. As if she was the one leading the conversation, that confidence was stifling and he admired that about her. She wasn't vulnerable to his emotional game, she stood her ground. 

He really liked her. He'd like to be her boyfriend, but not right now. Not when he's been in the wrong frame of mind for the past year. 

“You know I can't.” He muttered against the soft skin of her ears. 

You see, they've been dancing the same stupid dance for months on end. Although his heart craved her, his mind reminded the seriousness of a relationship. Something that he simply couldn't afford.

Not since his last. Not since then.

“It's getting late. We should go.” He gently whispered as he pulled away. 

“Okay.” She sighed, with certain dissatisfaction. The disappointment in her voice when she spoke was disconcerting. The unhinged emotion she had earlier seemed to just dissipate before his very eyes.

* * *

After a long deafeningly silent flight to the edge of Satan City was enough to recreate the tension in the Saiyan’s shoulders. Usually touching down in the driveway of his simplistic two-story house after a tiresome day washed a comforting feeling over his body. Unfortunately, today wasn't a usual day. 

As of late, he's noticed that since moving to the city from Mount Paozu, he's been coming home more exasperated. Moving was a sacrifice his family decided up despite their introverted nature. His parents promised it was convenient for work as well. 

That was fourteen months ago, and his father’s Dogo was booming with success. Of course, it wasn't as well-received as Mr. Satan’s, but it attracted hundreds of students each day. Each one was fitted with the elder Son’s trademark orange and blue Gi. He was proud of his father, he had learned to combine his love of martial arts into a promising career. 

Pushing his small fence open greeted him with the smell of freshly cut lawn and familiar laughter. 

He really was late, if they're already home. A quick glimpse at his watch; it read **7:45** **PM.** Luckily there's time before the after-party. 

Suddenly a small object crashed into his right leg. He instantly recognized it as his little brother Goten. His black spiky hair, that was identical to their father’s, poked at the bottom of his shirt as he nuzzled his face into the elder’s pants. Hoisting him on his shoulder was an easy enough task until Trunks, his other little brother grabbed onto his other hand and led him to the front door. Gohan motioned for Videl to follow them inside. 

As they walked through the foyer the younger Saiyans told him about their adventures through the backstage of the gallery house which included: attacking guards and destroying priceless art. It was a lot tamer in comparison to what they’ve done before. Now that Trunks was in the first grade and Goten was still in kindergarten, they haven’t been able to pull as many pranks. 

Looking down he noticed that both boys seemed to have stains on their shorts and dress shirts, most likely from their roughhousing session in the grass earlier. 

“Gohan! Papa’s mad at you!” Goten spoke up about his absence first, and the eldest Saiyan ears flinched at the sound of the loud five-year-old’s voice. He was soon followed by Trunks, who was never one to be one-upped by his baby brother. “Yeah, he was really mad. He even said a word that I can’t say ‘cause it’ll get me in trouble.” 

_I wonder what word that is._ He chuckled nervously at the thought.

“Gohan? Is that you?” _Oh shit, Dad. I'm so fucked._

A tall figure emerged from the kitchen, with spiky black hair and a frown on his face. He was dressed in black trousers and a blue button-up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Though he was almost forty his dad looked physically twenty-one, which warrants him unwanted attention from women. Videl had been staring mouth wide open for the past thirty seconds.

He was holding a plate of what looks to be Barabjuan, which were probably the Hors d'oeuvres for the party. 

“So nice of you to show up.” His eyes flashed angrily. It was unusual for the older man to be upset. The only other time he's seen him so angry was his fight against Cell. This was not good. 

He turned his attention to the boys and spoke in a much softer tone. “Goten. Trunks. Go get Vegeta from upstairs, please.” 

“Okay, Daddy.” They spoke in unnerving unison and galloped up the staircase to Gohan’s left. 

“And no running!” The last part went unheard, he returns his attention to his eldest. 

He begins again. “Who’s your friend Gohan- ” He takes a double-take. “and why are you still in your Baseball gear?” 

_This is my golden opportunity to get dad off my back._ “Dad this is my friend Videl Satan. Videl, this is my dad, Son Goku.” He stated. 

“Nice to meet you, Sir.” Videl offered her right hand for a handshake. 

“Likewise.” He returned with a hand of his own. 

“Hey Dad, I’m gonna take a quick shower and change.” He really needed to get out of these clothes, they were starting to smell. 

“Sure, go for it. Videl would you like to help me set up the backyard?” Goku motioned towards the back patio entrance. “I’d love to.” She smiled and followed him into the kitchen.

* * *

“Dad seems to like Vee, I wonder if Father will.” Gohan muttered out loud as he pulled on his striped sweater and his black jeans. After a final look in the mirror he pulled on his white sneakers, he stepped out of his room to face his family.

Flashes of black and purple ran past his legs, for the second time today. Choosing to follow the giggling and laughing the entire way to the living room led the teen to his biggest fear. The scowling face of his Father, Vegeta. 

The younger stood at the foot of the stairs staring at his living room couch, where his father was seated drinking what he could only imagine was red wine. He sat with his legs crossed and looked at his son over the rim of the glass. 

_Fuck my entire existence._

All the air in the room suddenly became colder. The confident aura he radiated was enough to make anyone piss themselves. Anyone that's not Goku for some reason. Lucky bastard. 

Playing it cool was the only way his dumbass was going to survive the rage of the older male. Though Vegeta was shorter he always made him feel as if he was smaller and inferior, even if it’s unintentional. 

“Hello Father, was the gallery eventful?” He asked, hoping the question was enough to deter his, well deserved, scolding for a couple more hours. Luckily for him worked. 

“It was not, but, thank you for asking.” He adjusted his blazer as he spoke. The Prince’s deep voice sent tremors down his spine. Gohan shivered.

“Cold Gohan?” Vegeta smirks.

“No Father.” He sighs. “You know what? I'm just gonna say it. Am I in trouble?” 

Vegeta gets up and walks over to him, and he suddenly feels like he's eight and on Namek again. A little kid in a big boy’s world. A small gloved hand rests on his shoulders and Vegeta tips and whispers in his left ear. “Yes.” 

“Fuck.” He grumbles.

”Language ’Han. Luckily for you, I'm in a good mood. Therefore I'm grounding you after the party.” The elder Saiyan gives him a light slap on his cheeks. 

“Yeah, that's fair.” He strolls into the kitchen with Gohan on his tail. 

“Why are you in a good mood anyway? I thought you hated exhibitions?” He walked around the kitchen’s island, grabbed an apple and took a bite.

“Oh, I just sold a painting of Frieza and Ginyu fucking for fifty million Zeni, to a homophobic asshole. ” _What the actual fuck?_

“You’re lying! Pa, you're fucking lying!” He spits out the apple all over the counter before him. The artist just smirks and walks out into the backyard to help Goku and Videl. “Was it abstract at least?” He shouts after the leaving figure.

He grabs a bottle of water off the counter, cleans up the mess and stumbles upon Videl shaking Vegeta’s hand. They turn towards him. 

“Oh, ’Hannie! Why didn't you introduce me to your friend here?” Vegeta smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes like it usually does. He must have recognized her from Satan’s interviews. 

She turns toward him expectantly, eyes blinking with confusion. “Videl. This is my other Father, Son Vegeta. Father, this is my friend Videl Satan.” He explains by gesturing to each person. 

“Lovely to meet you, Ms. Satan. I hope you're not a homophobe.” He shakes her hand once more and walks away, leaving her shell shocked. She blinks a few more times and turns to his Dad. Gohan tenses and gulps.

She smiles genuinely and addresses the martial artist. “You have a beautiful family, Mr. Son.” Gohan releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding in.

* * *

Gohan sits in the hammock on the far right of his backyard, idly watching his family filter through the small gate. He takes a tentative sip of the lemonade his brothers made and swings his feet. 

Krillin and Eighteen enter first, with what he likes to call, best friend privileges. Marron follows behind them until she spots the boys. That's definitely ending in trouble but, as long as he doesn't notice it, it can't hurt him. Eighteen, of course, finds Vegeta and the two scamper off to God knows where. He can hear their distant laughter though. 

He takes another sip. His mother, he hesitates to call her that, and Bulma stroll in with Yamcha and Roshi in tow. Dressed in matching red and black they come in laughing. They look nice.

A teenage sized lump throws itself down unceremoniously unto the hammock causing it to rock furiously. He steadies it with his feet and turns towards what can only be described as a flustered Videl.

“Your Aunt Eighteen -” Videl pauses to verify if she was correct, Gohan nods. “just asked me if I wanted to go free climbing Mount Everest with her this weekend.” 

“And?” He asks. She looks at him as if he grew an extra head. 

“Gohan! That's physically impossible!” She throws her hands above her head “Like I get that your family is made of superhumans, aliens, cyborgs, and stuff, but that's insane.” She looks around, “She has to be joking - right?” 

”Chill, they're just teasing you.” He smirks. 

“Oh. Okay.” She replies shyly. He's used to their games, but she isn't. Maybe they thought she had that kind of humor. 

“Hey, that means they like you. It's a sign of acceptance.” He grabs her hand and tries to reassure her. “Just say you're uncomfortable, they'll feel bad and try to make it up to you.” 

“Okay, I can do that.” She nods. 

“Also I've been thinking. I want to give us a chance.” She sits up immediately, eyes locked and focused on his face. “But let's talk about that tomorrow, okay?”

“Yeah, okay!” She hugs him tightly. For a few minutes, they sit on the hammock and talk about random childhood stories. It was peaceful until she jumped up suddenly.

“Wait, I forgot. Your Dad says you should introduce me to someone named Dende?”

Dende’s here? That means - “Oh my fucking Gods.” He's here. Just great. Why wouldn't he be? It's not like he isn't friends with everyone here. Why wouldn't he come? 

“Gohan? Are you okay? You're starting to look pale?” She places her hand against his forehead. “Gohan I think you need to - ” The rest of her sentence is cut off by his jovial best friend shouting across the yard.

“Hannie! How's it been man?” Dende. The teenaged Namekian runs over and hugs him. He hugs back but he's eyes never leave the figure behind the shorter teen.

The one who's talking to his Dad. The one that haunts his dreams. The one that's his ex-boyfriend. 

Piccolo. 

The taller Namekian’s eyes never leave his own, despite having a conversation with his father, Goku. Neither does his. They never broke eye contact, not once. Not even when Dende drags him off to the side. Not even when Videl blocks his view. Not once. 

The air feels thicker; as if a fog rolled in. The sounds of the party fades out around him, and all he can hear is white noise. He's sure the older male can hear his heart thumping in his chest, just fine.

Unexpectedly, the strobe lights from Krillin’s karaoke machine, God only knows when he brought that in, illuminates the backyard with neon colors. They bounce off every surface imaginable and disorient him slightly as he's been pulled to the swings by Videl and Dende. But, as if it was a punishment from King Kai himself, they all spotlighted unto a certain tall and green man. 

And damn, Gohan would be lying if he said he didn't look good. He licks his lips subconsciously. Like everyone at the party, he's wearing semi-formal clothes, but he looks like a model. His white dress-shirt had the top buttons opened. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and his left hand rested in his pocket. The shirt was tucked into grey high waisted trousers, that made his thighs look mouth-watering. To top it all off, his usual turban was replaced with a pure white one. 

“Krillin, really?” The Namek snarls and shields his eyes. Sharp fangs peak out, and Gohan almost spontaneously combusts. 

“Sorry about that Piccolo!” Krillin shouts from the small stage in the center of the yard. The short man turns towards the stunned teen. “Hey Gohan! Can you unplug the machine?” 

_What- Oh shit. Krillin._ Walking over to the back of the stage he reaches down and unplugs the cord and as he slowly raises up, a pair of Adidas sneakers appear before him. 

“You've been avoiding me lately.” Came the owner's voice. “Why have you been avoiding me Golden Boy?”

The teen covers the elder's mouth with a pale hand. He looks his antagonist in the eyes and growls “I thought I told you to stop calling me that?”

Piccolo pushes the offending hand off. “And I thought you'd gro-” He was cut short by Videl calling the younger male’s name. 

Turning the corner, she's greeted with the sight of a very angry Gohan and a slightly perturbed alien?

“Sorry to - interrupt? ” She looks in between the two nervously. She shuffles her feet a bit. “But Gohan your fathers are making a toast.” He turns his attention to her and smiles brilliantly. 

“Thanks Vee, I'll be there in a minute.” The younger teen blushes at the suddenness of the nickname, but doesn’t question it. She leaves the two glaring at each other. 

“The fuck was that? Huh?” Piccolo speaks first, his voice dripping with malice. His fists are clenched at his side. Black nails pierce green flesh and purple blood drips unto the lawn. 

“Look. If you wanna talk we can talk.” He grabs the clenched fists and uncurls the fingers. He thumbs the skin on the large hand. Purple blood stains his own pale hands. “Meet me in my room around ten, when everyone’s wasted.” Letting go of the hand he walks away.

* * *

“I had so much fun meeting your family Gohan.” Videl spins around him, dress fluttering in the wind. She was buzzing with happiness. They were standing on her balcony overlooking Satan City. She threw herself on the banister, sighing happily. 

“I’m happy you like them. ’Cause I think they like you too.” He said, brushing her hair. She hummed quietly, processing the information. 

“Do you really think so?” She yawns softly, but her voice was filled with pure elation. 

“I do.” Grabbing her forearm gently he tucked her into bed and left the room.

After flying a few miles away he decided to just risk Instant Transmission. Honing in on Goku’s energy allowed him to transmit right into the upstairs hallway. 

“Gohan?” _Speak of the Devil and he shall appear._

“Yes, Dad?” He shouted in the direction of his Father. 

“Honey, are you okay?” His response was much softer than the teen had expected. Which means his parents have been worrying about him all night. 

“I’m okay Dad. I swear.” And with that, he turned towards his bedroom door. 

He glanced at his watch. In big red letters shone, **10:03 PM.** Hesitantly he puts his hands on the cold doorknob. He had an instant mood shift. 

He paused and thought to himself. Was he ready to confront the man who's been haunting his psyche ever since he was young? Was he ready for the conversation they were supposed to have? Was he ready to be disappointed, or even surprised?

Was he ready to be an adult? 

He tried gripping the knob tighter in his palms, but the effort was futile. His left hand was coated with sweat and residues of Piccolo's blood. He let go of the knob and wiped his hands unto his pants. 

Manning up he grabbed the doorknob again. Biting his lips in concentration he turned the knob slightly to the right. Slowly the door opened and sitting on his couch was Piccolo. The Namekian had an air of haughtiness that intimidated the boy. 

Quickly stepping inside the room he shut the door. He was shaking in his boots. Long legs were spread out and an arm was placed behind the couch. It was if he was inviting the boy into his own room. 

“Lock the door.” The taller of the two mutters. Obediently Gohan turns the lock. He never dropped the habit of listening to the elder without question. 

“Aren't you going to sit?” Piccolo pats at the empty space of the couch. A silent nod is his only reply.

Slowly he lowers his body unto the other end of the couch. Curling in on himself as much as possible. The cold air pricked his soft skin. Did he leave the window open? Didn't seem like it. It was mid-September, it couldn't be that cold. Could it?

“No. ” He turns his head towards the other occupant of the room. “It's seventy-five degrees outside Gohan. It's just your imagination. Or anxiety rather.” How did he-?

“You’re speaking out loud.” What? When did he start doing that? “You do it pretty often - Well, around me at least.” 

Oh. 

A green hand stretches out and grabs his wrist. “Gohan I know you like the back of my hand-” He pauses. “Or at least I did.”

The hand slips away and rejoins the other in his lap. Piccolo looks out the window and sighs. “We used to be best friends. What- What happened to us?”

Gohan sits there- shocked. Did Piccolo just ask him that? He's livid now. 

“We dated. That's what happened.” The younger spits out. “We dated for five months and then we broke up, because of you.” He raises a finger and points at the elder’s face. 

The Namekian returns his gaze to the fuming Saiyan. “You know why-” 

“No!” He shouts. His eyes twitch at his frustration. How dare he say he knew why? If he knew why he wouldn't have cried himself to sleep every night for three weeks straight! His parents wouldn't have questioned their parenting skills and his mental state! They wouldn't have slept with him on countless nights to make sure he wasn't having nightmares! 

He wouldn't have gone to his abusive ex-boyfriend’s house to be ridiculed and judged for being bisexual. If he had listened to Piccolo talk instead of storming off, he would haven't gone.

“No, I don't.” He sobs defeatedly. He crumbles in on himself. There's no hiding his want to be comforted so he lets his ego go. He buries his head in the older man’s chest and a pair of arms wrap around his torso. He feels safe. He snuggles into the hard chest more.

A few moments pass by. 

“Han Solo,” Piccolo whispers into his ear. A small chuckle escapes his lips at the nickname. “I thought you said you knew why we had to break up. Were you just lying to me?” 

He turns his head to the left so he can hear the faint heartbeat of his companion better. “Maybe.” 

“Would--Would you want to know why?” Gohan looks up, his eyes are stilled puffy and wet with tears. He notices the other crying. He nods. 

“Why’d you hurt me, Piccolo? Why M.J.?” 

Hot tears stream down the other man's face and fall unto his cheeks. His turban that was immaculate before looked disheveled as if he had been rubbing his head through it. His antennas were poking out and his face was flushed with a deep purple. 

He opened his mouth but no words came out. He looks scared; it was he thought his answer wouldn't be good enough. Gohan was tired of wondering. He's been wondering for a year. At this point he’d take what he can get.

The room felt stuffy and the atmosphere was ridiculously tense. It was adding to the younger’s frustration. His impatience was getting the better of him. 

“Spit it out man! I'm tired of waiting-”

“You deserve better!” He's stopped in his tracks. Did he hear him right? He deserves better? What the hell does that even fucking mean?

“You deserve to live a normal life.” Piccolo brushes his tears away with a thumb. “Gohan, your half-Saiyan, that spells instant trouble for your entire life. You have two fathers and your bisexual, in a world where that's looked down upon. You've fought countless villains since you were five, self included. I don’t know if you remember, but Majin Buu happened last month.” He had honestly forgotten about that. His family probably didn't. Chi-Chi, Videl, his dads, his brothers. God, his baby brothers.

“You've been kidnapped, tortured, beaten, killed and forced to see your fathers die, not once but twice. God knows you don't need to have an alien, a one-third God, for a partner.” He looks exasperated from talking so long. 

“You’re only eighteen Gohan. You need to live a normal-hormonal-teenage-boy life. I can't please you the way humans can, the way you deserve to be. I'm inadequate.” More tears begin to flow from the elder’s eyes.

“What do you mean? You're twenty-one, which makes you only four years older than me!” Gohan sits up and cups his face. 

“Gohan. You're so much stronger than I am, physically and mentally. I can't protect you or even provide for you. I'm an advisor to God. That's not a job. I can't be normal for you-” Gohan shuts him up with a kiss. It's their first in over a year; it felt like their very first. They slotted together perfectly. 

Slowly Gohan crawls into Piccolo’s lap and straddles him. Large hands roll under his shirt and up his back. Sharp nails scratch at his skin, as warm hands find their way down to his waist. He moans softly into the kiss at the feeling. The grip tightened as he tongues the entrance of the other’s mouth open. 

His tongue tickles the roof of the mouth, which causes Piccolo to lightly bite down unto the flesh. The small pressure of the Namekian’s fangs drove him wild. His hands reach for the white turban, but they accidentally grab Piccolo’s antennas.

“Fuck.” The elder hisses and Gohan laughs hysterically. A few moments later, Piccolo joins in. In between each shared laugh was a peck on the lips and genuine smile.

Gohan knows they both have been craving this intimacy with someone else for the longest while. Someone who understood them and their experiences fully. Someone who understood what it's like to be different. To be Alien. 

Resting his head on the other’s shoulder was a familiar yet distant feeling. But it felt so right at the moment. 

“Ma Junior,” Piccolo’s shocked face looks up at Gohan as he restarts their conversation. “I don't care for normality, it's boring. And like you said, I'm Saiyan. I'm always gonna struggle somewhere and fight someone stronger than me - it's in my blood.”

“You're also half-Human. You do have physical limitations, unlike your fathers. Even though your intelligence is vast, your body is stationary - please don't forget that.” He counters. He gets a well-deserved eyeroll. Curse him for being so wise, despite being so young.

“That’s true -- But I like being with you, and being half-alien. Plus, I'm best friends with God, why wouldn't I fuck his bodyguard as well.”

“Touche.” Piccolo shrugs. “But I want you to grow first, as a person. If you feel the same way about us this time next year” He straightens his posture and hugs the boy closer to himself. “ -then I'll actually marry you.” 

The teen goes lax in his grasp. Brown eyes open wide and stare into black ones. They're filled with undeniable emotion. “You're kidding? Tell me you’re kidding, because if this is a joke it's a sick one.”

“It’s not, but you have to explore life first. I refuse to hold you hostage.” This was not a joke or a dream. Gohan actually might get to be with Piccolo, for the rest of their natural lives. 

The man he's been in love with since he was eleven, the same man who felt the same since he, himself was fifteen. He could faint - but he won't. 

He looks at the calendar on the back of his door. **September 13. Age 767.**

“Do we have a deal?” A green pinky finger is stretched out towards him. He interlocks it with his own. 

“Deal.” It couldn't be that hard. Right? Feelings don't change. He swoops down for another kiss but he's stopped by the vibration of his phone in his back pocket. It's a text message. He opens it. 

**Text Message from Videl**

**Received at 10:35 PM**

**Videl: Thanks for the amazing date Gohan. Your family was amazing! Especially your little brothers - omg they were so cute :3**

**Received at 10:36 PM**

**Videl: I'm really glad you’re giving us a chance. And thanks for tucking me in! <3**

Oh shit. Videl 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got inspiration from multiple art works including, so check them out if you liked this story (?) and support those artists!
> 
> The Behemoth’s Everybody Loves Goku Series and 2dragonkat’s Alternate Reality and A Saiyan Way of Life


End file.
